


The Gunslinger, The Archer, and the Bassinet

by RosemaryFries



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Body Dysphoria, Fluff, I promise it's tame, Jesse and Hanzo did an oopsie, Light Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Trans Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Trans Character, Trans Jesse McCree, Trans Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, but like not that much??, tagging just in case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-11-02 22:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10953690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosemaryFries/pseuds/RosemaryFries
Summary: Jesse McCree has been feeling a little under the weather lately, but when he gets a check up from the resident doctor...the diagnosis was the last thing he ever expected to hear.





	1. One hell of an Oopsie

**Author's Note:**

> Hello world! This is my first overwatch fic and first fic I have posted in like...years ; v ;
> 
> This was written mostly as a oneshot buuuut there may be a chance I dabble with it more in the future if people would like me to.
> 
> Also, I kind of write McCree with a lot of my transdude experiences as well as preferences to how the body and all that mess is addressed. So I want to apologize in advance if it makes anyone uncomfortable.
> 
> Also Also! I have this like headcanon that transitioning in the Overwatch verse has advanced a bit to the point where people can receive their initial hormones through an artificial implant that needs to be regularly kept up with via the appropriate supplemental medication (No shots because I'm a big fat weenie)

Jesse McCree didn't have enough fingers and toes to count how many times he had been sent to the Medical Bay, and he certainly would never have time to list every ailment that he had suffered to get there.

This time it was only supposed to be a stomach flu. At least he thought it was a stomach flu.

How he had hoped it was...

Angela sat on her little wheelie stool next to the examination table, scrolling through her tablet and tapping notes onto it as she went, chewing habitually on the lanyard her plastic keycard was dangling from. "How often have you been vomiting, Jesse? When did this start?"

McCree fidgeted on the table, accidentally splitting the paper that was pulled over the vinyl cushion for standard sanitation. He picked at some scuffs on his metal prosthetic out of anxious habit. As often as the cowboy had been sent to see the doctor, he didn't exactly enjoy it. It was all too invasive, and every time, as well meaning as she was, Angela was rather overbearing about his health. It was something he hated bringing attention to. 

Angela quirked a thin eyebrow at McCree when he failed to answer. "Jesse. I can't help you if you don't talk."

With a slow exhale through his nostrils, McCree scratched at his beard and grumbled in resignation. "I dunno, Doc. Like...sometime yesterday. Woke up feeling like a mule kicked me everywhere. Hell maybe the mule and his whole family tap danced all over me. N' when I sat up, my stomach hit the eject button." He gestured a spraying motion from his mouth with his hand and Angela pursed her lips at him before tapping a few more notes onto her tablet.

"Perhaps you drank too much the night before?"

"Naw." McCree shook his head and grimaced a bit as another wave of nausea began bubbling. He was starting to get better at bracing himself through the waves without upchucking anything, although it left sour tasting burps in his mouth. "Haven't had a drink or a smoke for some time now. Weeks maybe. I've just been so tired. And I've been blowin' chunks every few hours or so. Mostly in the mornin'...or after eatin' which really, really sucks on my part." He patted the soft curve of his middle for emphasis.

McCree was certain that Angela should have been glowing with smug pride at the mention of his lack of imbibing on his usual vices. For years she has dogged him to quit for his health, but if anything her pale eyes just searched him silently, trying to pull forth an answer. And that made McCree real goddamn nervous. 

"List me your symptoms please. Just once more so I know I have it all catalogued."

She's on to something. 

McCree rolled his shoulders. He had a real bad crick in his back, perhaps he could coax Hanzo into massaging it out later. Holy hell did that archer have some magic hands...and god those fingers. How they could make McCree dance just with a stroke--

Angela tapped her nail against the case of her tablet--waiting.

Whoops. Got a little carried away there. Good thing McCree wasn't the kind that let his body betray him when dirty thoughts arose. 

"Ah...lessee...vomitin' obviously, been fatigued...uh...oh and don't know if it means somethin' or maybe I'm drinking too much water but I've been havin' to piss like a racehorse. I actually kinda need to go right now if you don't mind."

Angela's eyebrows shot up immediately. "Excuse me??"

"O-Or I can wait?" McCree shifted uncomfortably and shoved his hands into his pockets, or tried to. Lately his pants were feeling a little snug. He should probably stop throwing all of his clothes in the dryer at once. But still Angela's tone made his heart almost leap into his throat. What the hell was he doing wrong now?

Angela put her tablet down and her eyes darted all over McCree's frame, intently studying him now. "No. What did you just say?"

"About the racehorse thing? That's just a say-

"No I know that!" Angela snapped. She stopped herself and closed her eyes as she slowly exhaled. She was getting that little tick above her eyebrow that she only got when dealing with the cowboy.   
She counted to three silently. Eis. Zwoi. Drü....

"Jesse." She said on the fourth beat. "I know you hate to talk about this. But we need to discuss your...well. How have you been taking care of yourself? Have you been taking the required medication for your T implant?"

McCree frowned as an uneasy knot settled in his chest, and he crossed his arms protectively over the scars that were hidden behind the red plaid fabric of his button down shirt. "I've been takin' them."

A lie. He ran out a few years ago and didn't bother to seek her out for refills or any kind of help. He didn't seek out anyone for help.

"You have kept up with your medication for six years then? You were able to locate another doctor to prescribe you a refill then?" There was a hesitant lilt in her voice. She had caught him.

"Well-

"Jesse when did you start ovulating again?"

Whatever lie McCree had planned on spinning next had been yanked clean off his tongue. It felt as if the question she posed had physically manifested and slapped him in the face.

"Angela you know I don't-

"Jesse. You may have transitioned to male, but you never opted to have your ovaries removed. Nor any other corrective surgery or prosthesis for that area."

McCree stuttered out a breath to keep his tone even. He hated the direction this conversation was taking. It was making him sick. He hated talking about his body. "Cuz I never saw a point to it since the testosterone stopped them from working."

"Yes and since you've stopped taking the medication that helped your testosterone levels, they've started working again. When did you start ovulating?"

McCree chewed his lip. "Dunno...a while ago I guess. Started maybe before I showed up at Gibraltar. By the way I swiped one of them lil' cups from here. I wanted to keep it under the radar."

"Jesse McCree!"

McCree threw his hands up and shrunk a little at her panicked tone. He had never seen the woman so worked up before. Not like this. "Hey calm down. You're puttin' yourself into one helluva tizzy! If it's freakin' you out that much I'll get back on the meds. I promise!"

Anything to get her to calm down. That poor woman had too much to stress about already. Jesse sure as hell didn't need to add to her workload.

Angela was drumming her fingers anxiously against the tablet now, staring at McCree like the man had grown two more heads or something. "Jesse...if I'm correct. You won't be able to go back on your medication for some time."

Her tone was too hushed. And her eyes kept darting to the door, as if she was afraid someone would come waltzing in and overhear what she said next. 

McCree tapped the heel of his foot to try and shake out the anxiety that was swelling into his chest. This wasn't good news. This wasn't good news at all. And of course he was going to bite the bullet and ask. "What's wrong?"

"Jesse...I understand that you and Mr. Shimada have been having..." She cleared her throat to push past the awkwardness of the term, "intimate relations."

That was definitely a vanilla way to put it, but McCree elected to leave it at that. "Yeah...uh...Hanzo and I have been close. Real close."

Angela nodded. Her complexion was beginning to flush a bit from embarrassment. She may have been a doctor and would act with the utmost professionalism when it came to a patient's sexual activities, but on the other hand Jesse McCree was almost like a brother to her, and no one wants to hear about who their brother has been fucking and how. And McCree wasn't about to regale the sweet doctor with tales of all the hot raunchy canoodling that had happened between a cowboy and a dragon. 

Nope. No way.

But goddammit Angela was going to ask anyway.

"Vaginal sex?"

McCree blinked. "Perdón?"

Angela cleared her throat again, to no avail as her voice still cracked with a hint of embarrassment. "Do you and Mr. Shimada engage in vaginal sex. Where he penetrates-

McCree immediately jumped to his feet-- his cheeks darkening. "Yes. Yup! Yes we do let's leave it at that!"

Good god in heaven does Mr. Shimada penetrate. But Angela doesn't need to know how good he is at that. Or how he can literally fuck the English right out of the cowboy. But Angela simply nodded in understanding. She was silent, but McCree could almost hear the gears turning in her head, patching together an unseen equation and slowly getting closer to her answer.

And McCree almost didn't want to know that answer.

"Jesse I need to run a blood test."

Oh hell.

McCree scrunched his nose at her. "You thinkin' I caught something from Hanzo??"

Angela pursed her lips and her eyes flitted downwards, still transfixed on McCree's body--particularly towards his middle.

Very quickly she straightened up and prepared herself for what she had to say next, even if Jesse McCree was the farthest thing from ready.

"Jesse I think you might be pregnant."

"Oh." McCree licked his own lips. His tongue felt too dry. "Okay."  
________

 

The first time Angela had returned with the results to the blood test, McCree immediately demanded that the doctor run the test again. She had argued with him quite extensively that the results weren't a fluke, but McCree was stubborn as all hell.

"Take it again!" He barked at her. An uncomfortable anxiety was expanding in his chest. 

Angela's face twitched in agitation but she obliged and took another sample to have it tested. 

While Doctor Zeigler busied herself away in a corner of her lab, McCree tapped the heel of his boot against the floor, allowing his agitation to ring out hollow. Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap!

Ahem! Angela cleared her throat and threw a careful glance back over to him and his leg immediately froze. It's not like he could help it. It's not every day a grown man is told that he's pregnant, of all things. 

McCree grimaced as that word fluttered around in his mind. It left a funny feeling in the pit of his gut, like he was too self aware of his own insides. He didn't like the feeling. From the corner of his eye the mockingly white leaf of paper sat on Angela's desk, the original blood results. McCree glared at the offending ink that had laser printed his results onto the paper.

P.

Positive.

Pregnant. 

He had read something, somewhere, that the original Latin term for pregnant literally meant "sick with baby."

Pregnant.

McCree shuddered again. That word refused to escape him. He knew he shouldn't have been so short with Angela, the woman was a complete godsend to his sad little life. After all, she was the one who had been there to help him transition in the first place. And being a trans woman herself, Angela had the patience and empathy to deal with the prickly McCree.  
When Gabriel Reyes had first dragged Jesse McCree kicking and screaming into Overwatch, his little punk cowboy ass barely weighed 90 pounds soaking wet without an ounce of Testosterone and only had the hair on his head to speak for. Ever since then, and with the help and care of a good medical plan within Overwatch, McCree has grown into an absolute bear of a man; about 200 pounds more (with some extra padding here and there) and covered chest to ass in curly brown hair.

And now you're pregnant. McCree's gut twisted and did somersaults at the thought. It had to be a weird dream...he's not supposed to get pregnant. There's no way he could...

Angela's heels clicked sharply as she returned to her three-wheeled perch across from Jesse. The exasperated look on her face told the cowboy everything. "Jesse-

"There really is a bun in there, huh?"

Angela's mouth twitched closed nervously as she fingered the corner of the paper results. Her eyes flitted to McCree's middle again, it was like she was straining to suddenly gain x-ray vision to see what was hiding inside. A bean-sized McCree? Or maybe it was a Shimada?

Jesse's heartbeat pounded through his whole body. How was that not his first thought?

The baby was Hanzo's. Jesse McCree was pregnant with Hanzo Shimada's baby.

McCree's right palm became slick with sweat as he clutched the fabric of his jeans tight in his knuckles. 

"Yes." Angela finally said. Her voice a bit thin and stiff. "You are pregnant, Jesse."

McCree nodded, feeling lightheaded. "So what now?"

Angela picked up her tablet again and began tapping away as she pushed herself into the menial task of putting together notes for McCree's file. It allowed her to relax slightly. "I will have to put a flag on your agent account. Absolutely, and I mean it Jesse, no smoking or drinking! You have to start taking better care of your body. That is...if you plan on continuing this pregnancy."

McCree blinked. "Huh?"

"You are currently three weeks along from what I have gathered. So far the baby is not a risk to your health, there is even a chance that it might not make it through the first trimester due to your hormones. You may have stopped your treatment altogether long enough for you to start ovulating again but...who is to say if it will be enough to support a growing fetus." She kept tapping nervously at her tablet. She was doing her best to avoid eye contact. "With proper doctoring and supplements I will do my best to help you and your child along..." She trailed off and her lips pursed together in a hard line as she set her tablet back into her lap. "But...considering the nature of our work and the steady list of enemies we are accumulating, I understand that this isn't a suitable environment to bring a child to term. But that is your decision and I wholly understand the practicality of it."

McCree's knuckles curled tighter and bile bubbled to the back of his throat. He wasn't sure if the thought made him sick or if he was just plain getting sick again for the umpteenth time. The feeling was overwhelming.

But it would be easier...right?

He could have an appointment scheduled, take some days off and.....

But what about Hanzo?

No. Absolutely not. As scared as he was, he couldn't bring himself to hide anything from Hanzo anymore. They had shared so much in the time they had grown close. He couldn't hide this from him. Hanzo deserved to know. 

But he was so goddamn terrified of telling him. How would Hanzo even react?

"Either way, we need to tell Winston."

McCree's head was spinning. This was really happening.

"Jesse?"

McCree released the death grip on his pants in order to rub his temples. "Yeah, Doc?"

"If you are going to be sick I can get you a pail."

"Naw...Naw I'm alright. Just trying to still chew on it."

A soft sigh parted her lips and some of the tension she carried in her shoulders relaxed. "I understand."

She wheeled herself closer to McCree and he found a pale hand finding his robotic one and patting it gently, almost motherly. For a few minutes they sat there, silence swallowing them. No words or glances were exchanged, only the presence of each other was enough for two old friends. Neither of them had ever been good with words of comfort. Angela was a doctor, but Jesse had seen through her facade of polite bedside manner the very day she was brought in to treat the young punk. She had tried her best for the sake of helping her patients, but words of encouragement were never her strong suit. 

"Thank you, Angela." McCree rasped through a knot forming in his throat. 

She nodded curtly and let out a steady breath before rolling back to her table and picked up her tablet. "I will notify Winston and we can discuss what to do from there. If you wish to have some time alone I completely understand."  
________

 

McCree's alone time had led him down to the beach that stretched along the base of the Gibraltar cliff-side. He should have sought Hanzo out first, to get the news out and so they could talk about what to do, but something inside McCree had him pull away from the idea.

Instead he decided to watch the waves roll in, sparkling under the noon-time sun. He tried to match his breathing to their calming pace, but all it did was make him sick again. 

His right hand twitched and he clenched it a few times to stop the sensation.

"Goddamn..." He breathed. He needed a smoke. Hell, he needed a smoke and a stiff drink.

But can't do much of that when growing another human. 

Pregnant. The word squirmed into McCree's mind again and his stomach churned in protest. He felt hyperaware of the soft swell of his belly. Hesitantly, he rubbed his flesh hand over it and his fingertips felt electrified at the touch. Jesse had always been a little chunky in the middle...at least when he started settling into his late thirties. He loved his comfort food plenty. But now it wasn't going to be just food...but a baby. 

He snapped his hand away quickly at the thought and rushed up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Panic began to flare up into his chest. His lungs grew tight as he struggled to breathe. Everything felt different and strange-- too bright and too loud.

It felt wrong. McCree's whole body felt wrong in that moment-- swaddled in a feeling of utter disgust. 

He barely heard the soft metal feet shifting through the pale sand behind him, and any composure he tried to mask himself with was completely lost as his stomach lurched unexpectedly. Jesse stumbled forward, his knees buckling and splashing into the tide as the bile burned at his throat, and he wretched loudly against the serene roar of ocean waves. 

Splashes followed after him and a strong hand was instantly pressing warmly against his back, rubbing slow circles.

Jesse McCree wanted to crawl into a hole and die. 

Pregnant.

"I know you tend to live in the moment, my love, but I suggest at least bringing a swimsuit if you wanted to go for a swim." Hanzo said lightly. He was trying to toe around Jesse, as he often did when the cowboy was distressed in any way. Sometimes it would work and McCree would take the bait, but today he couldn't...

"Howdy, sugarplum..." He chuckled weakly. His tongue was sour with the taste of bile and salty sea spray. 

"What did Doctor Ziegler say?"

Ah, there's the real Hanzo. Right to the point.

"Well," McCree started. He had to say it. He had to come right out and tell Hanzo. Otherwise he would sit on it for months and months until before he knew it, he would be on his back pushing out a baby. Merry Christmas Hanzo! You're a father!

McCree chewed his lip as he quickly did the math in his head. Angela said he was currently three weeks along, so in that case...huh, guess it will be a Christmas baby.

Hanzo's was silent as his expression hardened slightly at Jesse's pause, amber eyes filled with concern. "Jesse, please talk to me."

McCree shook his head. He had to tell him. "It ain't a stomach bug like I theorized, Han."

Sharp brows furrowed at the cowboy.

Lazy waves rolled past them as McCree continued to sit in the cool waters. The cowboy grimaced as he registered the feeling of his boots and pants completely soaked, but he managed to straighten and look up at his boyfriend. "Hanzo, you're gonna want to sit for this."

"Jesse I am perfectly fine standing." Hanzo growled impatiently. "What you tell me will make no difference. Now please, you have me very concerned about your health!" 

McCree exhaled slowly out of his nose. "Hanzo, I'm pregnant."

Hanzo blinked at him, his perfectly trained expression straining as he grasped at the words. McCree saw his mouth twitch slightly before it tugged into a rather weak smirk. "Jesse do not play games."

Now it was McCree's turn to furrow his brows in frustration and he squared his shoulders at the archer. "I ain't jokin' Han. Got two blood tests to prove it."

Hanzo's jaw clenched shut.

"Doc says I'm three weeks along..."

Hanzo quickly buckled and sat unceremoniously on his rear in the lapping waves.  
________

 

They sat in silence for nearly an hour. Hell, there was a chance they would have remained there, the cool tide splashing against them, until they turned to stone. But it was McCree's stomach that interrupted the uneasy silence, growling loudly and insistently for sustenance. Hanzo immediately rose to his feet and offered a hand to the cowboy. No words were exchanged. McCree quietly accepted it, and Hanzo pulled him out of the water, the archer's grip was like iron against his own.

Their silence continued across the base, all the way to the kitchens. It left McCree's heart practically hammering in his throat. Was Hanzo angry at him? What the hell was going on in that pretty head of his? What if he was repulsed? What if he was going to tell McCree he didn't want it?

The door slid closed behind them and McCree watched as Hanzo's shoulders sagged, no longer hiding behind his stoic mask. McCree's throat tightened.

But no words were spoken, instead Hanzo busied himself digging through the fridge and cupboards without so much as casting a glance toward his distressed lover. 

Tears stung at McCree's eyes as the panic began building again, starting deep in his chest and tightening his lungs. "Hanzo." He warbled quietly. "Y-You gotta say something..."

But Hanzo did not falter in his task. He kept his back to McCree as he worked, putting something together. 

McCree closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "Hanzo." He barked louder. Immediately the room started to spin and he lost his balance, stumbling into the small wooden table with his bad knee and gripping the edge for support with his prosthetic arm.

Metal feet tapped quickly across the kitchen tile and McCree felt the heat of Hanzo's side flushed against his as the archer steadied him and gently lowered him into a chair. McCree's lip trembled as he looked away, ashamed that he was getting so worked up. 

"I am sorry." He heard Hanzo rasp quietly. There was a quiet clink of china and a small plate with a sandwich was placed before the cowboy. "I was not sure what you would have preferred..."

"S'fine." McCree sniffed and rubbed a rough palm against his cheek to erase the tears trickling down. His stomach rumbled again, and he immediately took to scarfing the sandwich down-- a simple ham and cheese. It was a suitable peace offering.

From his peripheral he watched Hanzo's chest rise as he sucked in a breath. His archer sat rigid across from him. "Jesse," He started, running a hand along the shaved part of his undercut, "I...am not sure what to say about this."

McCree finished the last few bites of his sandwich and leaned back in the chair with a heavy creak, folding his hands over his stomach as he often did when sitting idly. But he couldn't help but feel conscious about touching his own stomach now, and Hanzo's tentative stare was not helping him none either. "Well you ain't exactly jumpin' for joy."

The way Hanzo leered warily at his middle made McCree feel as if the archer's piercing stare could see right into the womb carrying their child.

Womb...god what a weird word.

McCree shrugged his shoulders. "Accordin' to Angela...there's a chance that it might not make it past the first trimester."

Hawkish eyes immediately shot up to meet McCree's gaze. For a moment the panic on Hanzo's face could be read clearly. "Is there anything Doctor Ziegler could do to..." He cleared his throat and his expression relaxed a bit back into its usual mask, "...to ensure that it-- the baby will develop without complications?"

McCree's heart fluttered in his chest and he raised a brow at the archer. "You sayin' you want to keep it?"

"Are you saying that you do not?" The hurt that laced Hanzo's words twisted a knife in McCree's chest. It made him feel guilty for ever considering it, but still he steeled himself. 

"I dunno..." He sighed. He gently rubbed a small circle across his soft belly with his thumb thoughtfully. He noticed Hanzo carefully watching the movement. "I don't exactly live the kind of life that allows me to settle down. I've never lived that kind of live. You know that , Han."

"I understand." Hanzo remarked quietly. "I have never given it thought either, settling down."

McCree nodded. "I got 60 mil on my ass." 

Hanzo made an amused sound in his throat. "The Shimada clan want my head on a spike."

They both regarded each other silently, the gunslinger and the archer, comrades, and lovers. The tightness wound in McCree's chest slowly relaxed and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips as he gazed at his lover. Hanzo's eyes crinkled as his cheeks pulled his own lips into a suppressed smile. Laughter soon followed, bubbling up between them as they chuckled lightly. And for the first time since Angela had broken the news to him, a warmth bloomed in McCree's gut, overpowering the sickening feeling of wrongness he had been dwelling on. 

Hanzo reached across the table and clasped his hand over McCree's, gently pressing a knuckle against the cowboy's stomach. The touch was practically electric to McCree and he felt a surge of emotion start to well up within him. It may have seemed like a small action, but when it came to Hanzo there were no small actions. It was a wordless promise to McCree...and to the baby that they had accidentally conceived. Hanzo would be there for them.

McCree chuckled. "We did one hell of an oopsie didn't we?"

Hanzo nodded, transfixed on their hands and what lied beneath them. "Jesse, I understand that this is your choice to make...but just know that I will support you through your choice, whatever it may be. Your companionship has been very dear to me."

"Hanzo you don't got-

Hanzo held up a hand. "Please Jesse. While we were both...careless during our intimate moments...it is my fault that you ended up pregnant. I...I am sorry. I wish to take responsibility for my actions if you will let me."

McCree smiled warmly at his boyfriend, bringing their hands up and brushing Hanzo's knuckles against his lips tenderly. "I love you, Hanzo..."

A dark blush settled over Hanzo's face as his amber eyes began to well with tears. The stoic archer simply cleared his throat and quickly looked away, finding the kitchen window an interesting point to study meticulously. 

Laughter rumbled deep in McCree's chest as he laced their fingers. "Well...if it's with you, Han, I'm always up for a new adventure. Better go meet up with Angela and talk shop."

Hanzo smiled, his eyes still lingering at the kitchen window. "Perhaps an extended vacation will benefit us quite nicely."

It was early April. Nestled in a hollow high in a freshly budding tree was a cozy bird nest. A mother bird fussed over the contents of her home quite haughtily before settling her feathered rump on a pair of speckled eggs.


	2. This is Really Happening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has been moving on, and Hanzo and McCree are trying to adjust to this change in their life. But of course there are nosy little brother's with too many questions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all have no idea how amazed I am that this little fic got the response it did! Thank you all so much for reading and pushing for another part! And here it is! Part two of god knows how many more :3c  
> I appreciate all of you for taking your time to read this work <3
> 
> Edit: Had some formatting issues on the first post. It should be fixed I hope

It was time.

After their initial visit with Doctor Ziegler to let her know their plans on keeping the baby, Hanzo had made sure to mark the days in his phone's calendar. He absolutely wanted to be prepared for everything.

The tinny alert tune chimed annoyingly from the dresser across the room, rousing Hanzo from sleep. Quickly he toed across his and Jesse's shared threshold to cut the alarm. Still groggy from deep sleep, Hanzo fumbled clumsily with the device before he successfully swiped to shut the incessant chirping off. With a sleepy grumble he looked back across their too small dorm, the walls were washed with pale morning light. Hanzo squinted and checked the time on his phone.

4:45 a.m.

Too damn early for his taste. Quietly, he padded back to his spot on the bed. McCree was curled up tight against the wall on his side of the bed and snoring moderately. Hanzo was surprised that the alarm didn't rouse his cowboy, usually McCree was a terribly light sleeper-- a nervous habit formed out of a decade of military service and then years on the run. No doubt it was the pregnancy hormones now running rampant in the man's body. The last few months had been hell for him. McCree had been miserable and sick under what was almost a never ending spell of nausea and fatigue.

Hanzo nestled himself back under the warm covers, carefully tucking his metal prosthetics in and he shifted over to wrap his tattooed arm around his Jesse. The cowboy slept in only his boxers and he had kicked off the blankets at some point in the night due to growing too hot-- bare torso exposed to the sputtering AC.

The archer clicked his tongue in annoyance at feeling how cool McCree's skin was and drew the blankets over them both, but not before stopping to gently caress his lover's slightly bulging belly. The months before it usually rested soft rolls of fat, but now it was becoming more curved and taut to accommodate their  growing child. There would be no mistaking it for the cowboy putting on a few extra pounds.

Jesse McCree was pregnant.

And like Hanzo's reminder had said, today marked the first day of McCree's second trimester.

From under their nest of blankets, Hanzo heard McCree hum blissfully as he lightly ran his fingers through the hair on the cowboy's stomach. Warmth bloomed in the archer's chest as he watched his Jesse sleep soundly. _Jesse McCree is pregnant with my child-- our child._

The thought made Hanzo smile, it was such an elated feeling. He remembered once upon a time, how it was expected of him to marry and conceive an heir for the Shimada empire. Then, after he had left the clan, he couldn't bear the thought of allowing himself the happiness of his own family; he felt he would never deserve such a thing. But now...

His phone chimed again in what felt like a moment too soon, and Hanzo was instantly up and wrestling with the infernal device. A decades old theme song to a children's anime blasted loudly from the tiny speakers.

Without bothering to look at the ID, Hanzo swiped to answer. Chipper Japanese greeted him.

"Good morning, big brother!"

_Sigh_. Genji.

"It is nearly five in the morning, Genji." Hanzo growled back in their native tongue, doing his best to keep his voice low. "I regret letting you set your own ringtone, you almost woke Jesse up."

Genji hummed thoughtfully. "He's still asleep? That's unusual of him."

"What do you want." Hanzo demanded more than asked. His tone was a bit too forced since he was desperate to change the subject. He couldn't tell Genji just yet, even if he was going to be an uncle.

Oh dear god, Genji was going to be an uncle...

Hanzo chewed on his lip anxiously. Genji had always been more perceptive than he liked to lead on. It was a trait he had picked up in his time with the Shambali monk he now called his teacher. And god could it be annoying.

But he knew all of the current Overwatch agents had their questions when Angela suspended McCree's agent status. He was one of their best field agents-- an ex Blackwatch agent. Hanzo knew a lot of the new members looked up to the cowboy, and now he was grounded due to "an unexplained illness".

And Hanzo was the cause.

He heard Genji hum again on the other line, his voice almost static. "You promised to join me for meditation this morning, brother."

A twang of guilt pulled at Hanzo's gut. Of course, how could he have forgotten.

Well, no...it was quite easy to forget. Hanzo's days had been overloaded with a constantly changing schedule. Since McCree had been suspended, the archer felt it was only right that he picked up a few of Jesse's more physically demanding  jobs around the base, along with his own.

Daily and nightly perimeter checks, coaching and running attack simulations for the newer recruits, sparring practices, supply runs,  meeting with the other defense agents to plan for future missions, strategizing and reworking upcoming missions that included McCree on the roster, AND on top of all that...

 A teetering stack of parenting and pregnancy books sat on the floor next to their bed, a rainbow of post-it notes stuck out from nearly every worn out page.  Hanzo could swear that he most definitely hadn't studied that hard since his college entrance exams.

If it wasn't for Hanzo's phone constantly blowing up with reminders and alarms, the poor man would have surely drowned under the pressure of it all.

Thank god for technology.

"Sooooo," Genji drawled through the awkward silence. "Will I be expecting you? Or would you rather spend the rest of your morning snuggling your over-sized teddy bear with a cowboy hat?"

Hanzo nearly choked on his own spit and a sudden heat burned at his ears.

"Yes! Yes of course I will join you!" He found himself answering a little too loudly. He winced and gave a quick glance over his shoulder to check on the said "teddy bear", who thankfully was still snoring peacefully.  Hanzo let out a thankful sigh.

"I will meet you in a few minutes." Hanzo quickly whispered into his phone and pressed the little red icon with his thumb to end the call before Genji could tease him further. The younger Shimada's time in Nepal may have matured him, but there were times Genji could still be...well, an annoying little brother. No amount of self reflection could change his teasing nature towards Hanzo. Especially not when he seemed to enjoy tormenting his big brother to no end.

Quickly, Hanzo moved to get dressed, setting his phone down on the dresser once again and slipping on a pair of sweats he found crumpled on the floor, followed by a slightly wrinkled shirt that was wedged halfway under the bed. He made a mental note to set yet another reminder on his phone for cleaning up their room a bit. (Even Jesse once admitted that it was getting just a tad too messy.)

Hanzo then slipped his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and began to haphazardly comb his fingers through his hair to pull it into a messy bun. A creak of the box spring alerted him to his significant other stirring awake and shifting his weight as he stretched and yawned something unintelligible. It was then shortly followed by a symphony of joints straining and cracking as the gunslinger stretched his tired limbs and pushed himself to sit up.

"What time is it?" He mumbled sleepily.

"Far too early for you two to be up and about." Hanzo chastised gently. He turned on a metallic heel and leaned into give Jesse a tender kiss on the lips. They both grimaced at the taste of each other's morning breath, but then smiled through it and Hanzo couldn't help but to relinquish another kiss to his love before pulling back to tie his sagging sweatpants. By this point he was certain he grabbed McCree's by mistake. He was already aware that the shirt he wore was the cowboy's. A gaudy grey alien wearing a cowboy hat looked up at him from the print of his shirt followed by, "Howdy from Roswell, New Mexico!" beneath it in a cheery western font. Hanzo did his best to suppress the elated giggle that worked its way into his chest at such an ugly shirt. Oh god how he loved Jesse for his taste in t-shirt fashion.

Meanwhile, McCree yawned again and rubbed the palm of his flesh hand against his eye. "N'why the hell you up so damn early?"

A slightly guilty look flashed across the cowboy's face. He knew Hanzo had been taking over a multitude of his jobs because of the baby. Hanzo smiled to reassure him and cupped his face, stroking a thumb through McCree's rough and wild beard. "Because I am meeting with Genji."

McCree's cheeks flushed and he batted the archer lightly to give himself some space. Hanzo obliged him and chuckled.

"So he finally got ya to say yes to one of his meditations at the ass crack of dawn?" He yawned again and scratched at his hairy belly absently. "That devious bastard."

Hanzo chuckled again. "You flatter him too much."

"Yeah well it's the nicest thing I can say right now since he's takin' you from me." Jesse then gave him a sleepy looking pout. The sight absolutely melted Hanzo's heart. His poor cowboy squinting sleepily with wildly tousled bedhead and his hand resting over his belly.

It nearly made Hanzo  want to shuck his pants off right then and rejoin Jesse in bed. He wanted to snuggle up close with McCree under those sinfully warm covers-- their growing child between them.

_And Genji is family too_. The accursed rational side of his brain reminded him. One day he was going to smother that side completely, but sadly not today. Hanzo sighed and yielded his thoughts.  Although he could not help the fatigue that plagued his tired body. Perhaps a nap was needed later...

"I will return." He promised. He leaned in and gave McCree another quick kiss. Then he leaned further down and planted a gentle kiss on the curve of McCree's slightly firm tummy. He missed the softness of it, but this was just as good.

"Get some rest." He whispered to them.

McCree hummed happily at the feeling. "We'll be right here."

________

 

The hike up the cliff sides should have taken Hanzo a few minutes less than it actually did, but the summer heat had made the climb unpleasant. By the time he managed to reach the hidden little outcropping of lush foliage, Hanzo's back and arms were coated with a light sheen of sweat and his breathing slightly more labored than he would ever care to admit.

Waiting beneath the shade of a wild olive tree, Genji sat cross legged and patted the sparse grass next to him. "Your age must be catching up to you."

"Not everyone is built with their own climate control." Hanzo huffed annoyed at the comment and kneeled beside the cyborg.

Genji barked out an elated laugh and elbowed Hanzo playfully. It was a comfortable feeling for both of them to be moving past the ugly scar in their history that resulted in Genji's cybernetic prosthesis. The two brothers had grown so close in the passing months.

Although most of it was due to McCree getting pregnant. Hanzo pushed himself to swallow his guilt and reach out to Genji more. He wanted Genji to be a part of his new family. And naturally, it was a messy process. Genji claimed he had forgiven Hanzo for nearly killing him, but there was still a shred of animosity deep down, and the younger Shimada had every right to it. But thankfully the two brothers pushed past it. (With the help of many frantic hands: McCree, Doctor Zeigler, Zenyatta, and even Lena Oxton.)

Genji rolled his shoulders and settled a little more comfortably into his meditative stance. "Well, I was certain you would have abandoned me to have another romp with your cowboy."

Hanzo felt his ears burn and he shot a disgusted look in Genji's direction. "Must you be so crass?"

Genji simply chuckled and held his hands up in a sign of surrender. "I kid, brother. I understand he has been sick. You have been very vigilant in caring for him."

Hanzo took a deep breath in an attempt to focus himself. He could not help the gut feeling that this was Genji's means to probe Hanzo for answers.  He had to stay on guard. His brother was notorious for being a nosy little weasel when he wanted to be.

Hanzo merely offered him a grunt of acknowledgement, and Genji did not miss it.

"How is Jesse doing? I hardly see him nowadays. He keeps blowing me off on sparring sessions." Hanzo could almost hear the pout behind Genji's visor. "He hardly shows up for the weekly briefings anymore. The last one he was at, he looked really...how would he say it 'green around the gills?' He could probably benefit from some time in the sun. It is not fair you and Angela try to keep him cooped up in his room all the time. Knowing Jesse, he must be going crazy."

Hanzo clenched his jaw tight. Genji made it seem like they were holding McCree hostage when that was hardly the case. Poor Jesse had spent the last three months bent over a toilet bowl or a trashcan with the worst spell of nausea Hanzo had ever seen. It was a relief to see Jesse was looking much better (albeit sleepy) when he woke, than he did a few mornings before.

"Is Jesse alright?" Genji probed again. His tone was tense with concern. "Everyone is worried about him, and neither you nor Angela has told us just exactly what kind of illness he has come down with."

"I am surprised you haven't managed to weasel it out of Doctor Ziegler." Hanzo snipped back. He tried to keep his hands loose in his lap, trying to emulate a relaxed state. But it was the exact opposite of how he felt. Hanzo's insides were strung tight like a thin metal wire.

But surprisingly Genji barked a laugh at Hanzo's response, his shoulders shaking. "Oh you insult my dear Angela! If there is anyone more tight-lipped than you, it would be her."

Naturally. Doctor/Patient confidentiality.

But while Genji had every right to be concerned for McCree's health, Hanzo knew Genji was just extremely nosy in nature. He fondly remembered watching him at five years old, sneaking into their parents room in order to peek at his birthday presents, and then throw the biggest fit when he didn't get what he wanted. 

Hanzo prayed that his child would not be as troublesome, but knowing his luck...

"Before she went on her mission to Cairo last month," Genji continued, mirth bubbled in his voice as he talked about his angel, "She threatened to take my legs if I asked her one more time about you two."

"You are insufferable." Hanzo remarked. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his chest.

Genji laughed again, his filtered voice light. "That is exactly what she said!"

The two brothers allowed their laughter to die down and soon they were immersed in the sweet silence of the morning. The distant sound of waves crashing against the rocks below rolled over the high cliffs that the Gibraltar base was nested in. A few gulls lazily drifted down from the sky on the summer breeze and cried out their morning salutations. Hanzo relished in the peace the rising morning brought him.

Glittering waves.

A gentle warm wind.

And the synthetic hum of the base stirring to life as Winston ran his early morning diagnostics.

From within, he felt his dragons sigh pleased, and he allowed their peace to roll through him and ease his guard. But of course, allowing himself to relax into such a state was a mistake around Genji. But now that he was truly resting for the moment, he could feel his exhaustion catching up. Perhaps Genji was right, maybe he was getting old...

"I hope Angela returns soon." Genji hummed wistfully.

"In a few hours." Hanzo slurred. The morning sun was starting to seep into his tired bones and make him drowsy. It reminded him of the warm covers he had shared with McCree earlier that morning.

He had received an update from the doctor the night before. She had messaged Hanzo the details of her ETA back to Gibraltar. She promised that she would be returning to base around midday and would do what she can to perform McCree's check-up and ultrasound as soon as she was able.

"I wish it was sooner." Hanzo found himself sighing out loud.  Today would be the day he and McCree will see their child for the first time.

"Oh?" Will Angela be seeing Jesse? Is everything alright?" Genji's voice was laced with innocent curiosity, and damn Hanzo for being too content and drowsy to see right through it.

"It is just a check-up." Hanzo sighed. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He really needed to get more sleep. With his overloaded schedule, any time to relax and catch his breath had all but disappeared. Just last night, he had taken the night shift for a perimeter check around base, checking for potential weak spots in security and making sure their defenses were overall untampered and running soundly. It was a job that normally Morrison took up since that man never slept, but he had flown out to Cairo with Doctor Ziegler. They, along with Ana Amari, had been looking into tracking down a lead on the Reaper. (An enigmatic shadow that plagued new Overwatch alongside Talon.) It was a mission that McCree was meant to oversee alongside Morrison, but of course Hanzo had to go and knock the cowboy up and basically throw a wrench into months of intricate planning.

Hanzo sighed again. Fighting a yawn pushing up his chest, and his head dipped forward slightly.

"Hanzo? Have you been sleeping alright?"

Hanzo did his best to force his eyes open for a fraction of a second and he gave into the yawn. He just couldn't shake the image of McCree's sleepy face out of his head. _He must be sleeping so soundly right now._

"I...am alright." Hanzo mumbled. He was definitely not alright, but he was the kind of person that would rather die first than show any sign of weakness. His head drifted in a heavy fog as his thoughts faded in and out of his normal state of alertness. Unfortunately, lack of sleep was beginning to win. He felt like a content sleepy cat sunbathing in the warm light. With a tired rumble he nodded his head. "Perhaps...I should put aside time to properly sleep...--

"That is a good idea. You have been working too hard--

"Yes." Hanzo drawled, unaware that he had cut Genji off. The warm summer air felt so nice. "Yes...sleep is a good idea."

"You should be rested for Jesse's check-up."

Hanzo nodded again, barely aware of the smile that pulled at his lips when his thoughts turned to his and Jesse's child. "Yes...yes cannot sleep through the ultrasound...I must see our bun."

Yes of cour--.....ultrasound...bun?"

The sudden silence from Genji snapped Hanzo awake. And it took the elder man a whole three seconds to mentally recount the nonsense that slurred from his mouth. He looked to Genji-- heart pounding madly in his throat.

Genji was sitting upright-- alert. His visor now sat in his lap as wild brown eyes stared at Hanzo. Scarred lips opened and closed uselessly as they tried to piece together Genji's reeling thoughts.

"You did not hear that!" Hanzo quickly snapped. His voice was brittle and weak with panic. "Genji you did not--

"Yes I very much did!" Genji shot back. "I heard you say ultrasound! And bun! Why does Jesse need an ultrasound? And why is there a bun involved?" He leaned a little too close towards Hanzo, brown eyes searching and eager for secrets.

"Genji!" Hanzo barked through clenched teeth.  

Genji narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Hanzo. I am tired of you, Angela, and Jesse dancing around me. The whole team is tired! We have been worried sick about Jesse's wellbeing so you are going to tell me what is going on right _now_."

Hanzo's heart hammered in his chest. He really should tell Genji, but was it too soon? If anything, he should consult McCree first since he was the one carrying the baby. It should be his decision who he felt comfortable telling first.

But...it was Genji.

Genji and McCree are best friends, and they had been close in the past.

_Close enough that Genji knows McCree as intimately as you do_ , Hanzo thought.

Goddammit.

"If I tell you," Hanzo started carefully. He looked Genji over warily-- afraid of what may happen when the secret is out. "Promise that you will not make a big deal about it."

"I promise." Genji replied a little too quickly. His eagerness did not give Hanzo any confidence.

But it had to be said now.

Hanzo sucked in a breath. "The reason Jesse had to be suspended...the reason Angela is giving him an ultrasound is...because he is pregnant."

An intense silence filled the first few seconds. Genji gaped, wide eyed and mouth open, and then that mouth split into the biggest grin. "Pregnant?? Jesse is...pregnant??"

Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure if Genji was going to start laughing now or-

Genji cackled in sheer delight. Slapping his knee and throwing his head back as he crowed loudly. "You got Jesse McCree pregnant!!"

"Genji."

"I can now say that Hanzo Shimada is so damn good, that he got a man pregnant!" Genji wrapped his hands around his sides as he giggled uncontrollably.

Hanzo's ears burned and he slumped into his hands. He wanted the earth to swallow him up right now. "Are you done?"

A sudden sharp gasp from Genji startled Hanzo and he looked to his brother alarmed, but Genji stared back at him, his hands over his mouth and once again eyes wide in shock.

"Hanzo."

"Genji, what is it? Are you alright?"

"Hanzo."

"????"

"That means I am going to be an uncle!" He shouted with glee. His filtered voice chirped and crackled with pure elation. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes and his expression softened,"I'm going to be an uncle."

Emotion twisted sharply in Hanzo's chest, and he felt his own eyes threaten with a fresh sting of tears. How on earth did they manage to get to this point in their lives? Once pawns to the Shimada clan, they were now free men of their own volition.

"Hanzo," Genji said gently, as if he was realizing it just now. "You are going to be a father."

Genji's eyes crinkled with warmth for his brother and Hanzo ducked his head-- happiness swelled deep within him and the dragons were elated. It took everything for Hanzo to fight the stupid grin forming on his face, but he gave in and let his feelings consume him whole. For once it was a good thing.

Genji clapped a hand to Hanzo's shoulder and smiled ear to ear-- a silent _I am proud of you._

They spent the rest of the afternoon finishing their meditation, silences sprinkled with random moments of chatter between them. It was mostly Genji probing Hanzo once again with questions.

How far along is McCree?

Boy or Girl?

Have you thought of any names yet? (Also if it is a boy, Genji would be a wonderful name.)

Hanzo chuckled and answered each question patiently, drunk on the peace the morning brought him.

 Jesse was thirteen weeks along.

 It will be a few more weeks until they know the gender. Angela had been gone around the time Jesse was supposed to receive his first ultrasound, so this meant they were getting the whole package-- to see their baby and hear its heartbeat.

And Hanzo and Jesse agreed on waiting to know the gender before deciding on names.

"I still think Genji is a great name to consider." The younger Shimada said teasingly.

Hanzo rolled his eyes at his brother's insistence. "And what if it's a girl?"  
Genji shrugged. "Then you can save it for when you have a boy."

Hanzo nearly reeled at the thought. "Genji, we can barely grasp that we are having one child, and now you talk about Jesse and I having a second one?!"

Genji looked indifferent to his big brother's panic, although Hanzo could see the amused glint in his eye. " No harm in planning for the future. "

No harm indeed.

Hanzo shook his head and sighed. "One is enough for now, thank you."

________

 

"It's twins!"

Doctor Angela Zeigler gasped as she held the wand against McCree's exposed belly, her blue eyes were wide with shock as she stared at the flickering computer screen.

McCree's own eyes blinked in confusion as he looked from Angela, to the screen, and down to his own stomach. "Wait--....twins? That means--

Hanzo himself stood there numbly, his mind stumbling to catch up as McCree lay on the examination table sputtering in complete shock. Next to them, Genji crowed in sheer delight and clapped Hanzo on the back.

Twins. Jesse McCree was pregnant with twins.

Hanzo gripped his cowboy's hand tight as they shared a knowing look and--

_th-thump! th-thump! th-thump! th-thump!_

A static rhythm crackled through the speaker on the monitor and quickly drowned out their stunned silence as Angela tapped to raise the volume on the monitor. With her free hand, she worked the wand around the curve of McCree's belly and they watched as the image on screen blurred and shifted-- two small fuzzy shapes quickly came into view.

Next to him, Hanzo heard McCree gasp softly. "There are my buns. There they are. Hanzo...look at them."

A swell of emotion bubbled into Hanzo's chest and he tried his best to keep it down, but to no avail. When he spoke, his voice shook wet and heavy with emotion. "I see them. They're beautiful, Jesse."

"They've got strong heartbeats, just like their daddy."

Hanzo didn't even try to fight the smile that spread across his face. He looked down to Jesse, who was smiling back at him just as wide-- eyes glistening with tears.

"They're strong because they have a strong papa carrying them." Hanzo murmured in reply.

He watched with great amusement as McCree's cheeks flushed dark and he ducked his head in embarrassment. "Shucks, darlin'!"

Hanzo took the opportunity to give Jesse's flesh hand a reassuring squeeze. The action was returned affectionately, but with an added kiss to Hanzo's knuckles.

"This is really happening." McCree said giddily.

"Yes it is." Hanzo agreed. He felt a metallic hand squeeze the meat of his shoulder and Genji was by his side, misty-eyed and a huge toothy smile squishing his cheeks against the frame of his metal parts.

"Congratulations, to both of you."

Angela also offered a warm smile to them, although it faded rather quickly as she turned her attention to McCree. "Jesse, how would you like to proceed from here? You need to tell the rest of the team."

McCree puffed out a breath and let his head fall back, an obvious sign of reluctance.

Angela knit her brows at the cowboy. "Jesse. You can't keep hiding this."

McCree gave a half-hearted shrug. "I mean--

Hanzo knew he had to step in and be the responsible parent. "And what excuse will you use when you are nine months pregnant and going into labor?"

"Nine months pregnant with _twins._ " Genji added. "You can't exactly keep saying it is age or food, Jesse. You know Morrison won't accept that."

"Okay! Okay!" McCree snapped in exasperation, crossing his arms. "Y'all need to stop pickin' on me!"

"We are merely being realistic." Hanzo said with an amused chuckle.

Jesse sat in silence, arms still crossed, as he gnawed on his lip in frustration. The only sound that filled the room was the rhythmic thumping of their children's heartbeats. His eyes flicked back to the screen where the image of their little buns were projected on, and Hanzo saw the cowboy's expression soften.

"Alright then." McCree mumbled. "Get everyone together...and we'll get this over with."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to let you know that the last segway is possibly the best segway I have ever written ever. THank you


	3. A Heavy Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Jesse to come out with his pregnancy to a few close friends, and one grumpy soldier. But this stirs up an old ghost...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh...how about those hurricanes y'all? I hope everyone is doing okay!   
> I know I don't actually have a real schedule for writing this but I would've had this done a week earlier if the weather didn't do what it did 
> 
> Small warning! The beginning of this chapter is a flashback and has a lot to do with McCree before he transitions and has some body dysphoria in it. If it makes you uncomfortable then I recommend skipping it till you reach the next segment under the line.  
> (To give a quick summary if you don't wish to read: Jesse is hiding in the bathroom and Jack finds out he's trans. Jack also reveals he's trans too and that Jesse doesn't have to worry about feeling unsafe.)  
> Thank you again and please enjoy! Your kudos have fueled me to keep writing this little dream fic of mine ; u ;

________

It was 3 a.m. at the Swiss Headquarters in Zurich, and Jesse McCree was holed up in the communal bathrooms of the Blackwatch sector, hating the world.

Just barely eighteen years old, and the boy hated a lot of things.

He hated Commander Reyes for basically kidnapping him into the stupid organization. He hated how he was just a pet project for the man, an ego boost,  like he was some mangy stray found in the trash that just needed a firm hand. He hated all the stares people gave him. He hated how they thought he was going to bite them. He hated the cold weather, the altitude, the 5 a.m. siren drills in the freezing cold.

He hated how the buzzing fluorescents in the bathroom made his skin look sickly green, and the bruises speckling his ribs and chest darker than they really were.

McCree scrubbed furiously at the bandages in the sink, trying to rid them of the dirt and grime they had accumulated from weeks of training. A standard issue Blackwatch hoodie was draped over his bony frame as he worked.

For the past ten minutes, he worked with a steady rhythm-- one that kept his mind from thinking too much.

He pushed the meat of his palm against the soap dispenser and with a sharp click of the machine it spat a few drops of pink soap onto his fingertips. He then scrubbed his bandages hard, till the skin of his hands felt raw, and rinsed under the faucet.

He continued this pattern at the same maddening speed of his rising heartbeat.

Click. Scrub. Rinse.

Click. Scrub. Rinse.

Click. Scrub. Rinse.

He was terrified of being caught. What if someone sees?

For most of his life, Jesse had spent a long time hiding his identity from everyone he's ever known, from his mother, from Deadlock...

And now from Overwatch.

The small rational side of his brain just wanted to be done with it all, to tell someone, anyone.

This was Overwatch for fuck's sake! It was an organization full of clean, goody-two shoed heroes! Gabriel Reyes was his commanding officer and an openly gay man!

But then the bigger half of his brain spoke up, the half that had kept him alive for all those years.

_You can't trust people. No matter what they seem like. Not even your own mother..._

It was the one rule Jesse McCree had kept under his belt.

The memory of hard brown eyes looking him up and down when he finally snapped at his mother to stop calling him Jessabelle distracted him from the soft shuffle of slippered feet approaching his grimy little hideaway.

The door swung open with a sharp squeak, and Jesse's heart leapt in time with the sound.

"McCree?" A gruff sleep-heavy voice called out.

The young gunslinger backpedaled away from the sink cursing loudly in fright— caught bare-chested and red-handed. But his heel slipped on a soapy puddle on the tile, and the poor boy ended up hitting his tailbone hard on the floor. He fumbled in a panic for the zipper of his hoodie but it was too late. The jacket had slipped from his shoulders and exposed him.

A hard knot coiled in McCree's throat while he wrestled down the raw fear clawing its way up inside of him. But all he could do was wrap his arms protectively around himself and bare his teeth at the intruder. "Say one word and I'll end ya!" Jesse barked harshly. "You didn't see a goddamn thing here, you fucking peepin' sonuva—

"Jesse, please calm down."

Strike Commander Morrison, THE Strike Commander Jack Morrison was knelt in front of McCree, a concerned look pulled at his brows. He was dressed in a baggy _California Dreaming_ sleep shirt and a pair of grey sweats. And much to Jesse's shock, a pair of fuzzy owl slippers decorated the super-soldier's feet.

McCree faltered a moment as shock seized him, but his heart continued to jackhammer in his chest loudly. He was surprised the commander couldn't hear how loud it was.

But Jack's attention was on Jesse's chest momentarily, his hard expression unreadable.

Jesse tucked his knees in to block the commander's view. "Don't tell Reyes."

God he sounded so weak in the echo of the dingy bathroom. He hated how easily his voice cracked.

With a steady exhale, Jack rose to his feet and offered the cowboy a hand up. Jesse took it reluctantly.

"Jesse, what are you doing up this early?" Jack asked quietly. His tone was surprisingly gentle despite the fact he usually sounded like he gargled marbles.

"The hell you doin' on Blackwatch's end of the base?" Jesse shot back.

"I couldn't sleep. Back to my question."

McCree clenched his jaw and glared up at the man. Jesse was tall, nearly six feet, but the commander still had an inch or two on him. But before he could answer, Jack's attention was already on the bandages in the sink.

The blond man grabbed a handful of the soapy bandages and turned them over critically. "How long have you been using these?"

Jesse kept his mouth shut.

_You can't trust people._

He could feel his mother's hard stare on him. The woman was probably dead in a ditch somewhere but he could still feel it.

"Jesse, how long?" Jack asked again. There was an edge in his voice that made McCree want to bolt.

"I dunno...ever since I started developin' and shit. Ever since I ran around with Deadlock." He could feel all the heat evaporating out of his lungs. All he could do was stand there numbly with his arms around himself. They trembled slightly from the strain of holding his sides so tight, but it was all he could do to keep from falling apart right in front of the commander.

"Is this why you've refused to see our doctors in Medical?"

McCree's lip trembled, but he nodded.

"Don't tell Reyes," he repeated, voice crackling slightly. It was all he could manage to say anymore. "I'll do whatever just please don't tell Reyes."

He winced when he heard Jack inhale sharply at his words.

"Jesse," the older man sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want you to go to medical. Let Angela check you over. Those bruises...they look bad."

A sob forced its way passed Jesse's lips and the young gunslinger hiccupped as hot tears flooded his vision.

_Goddammit. McCree you fuckin' ninny._

"You don't know what it's been like!" He snapped at Jack. "I can't go! I just can't! I don't wanna deal people poke at me with their sticks and remind me how wrong I feel!"

Jack dropped the bandages and held his hands up passively. "Jesse...I promise you that they will understand. I understand...no one is going to hurt you."

"Fuck you!" Jesse snarled through his tears. "What the fuck do you know?!"

In response, Jack Morrison quietly removed his own shirt and stuck his own chest out in front of the cowboy.

McCree honestly would have missed them if he blinked, but they were there. Thin faded scars right under Jack's pectorals.

Surgery scars.

"Believe me," Jack murmured. "I understand quite a lot."

Fresh tears welled in Jesse's eyes, but this time they were tears of relief. He finally dropped his arms to his sides and allowed himself to cry. Years and years of pent up frustration and self-hate poured out of him in violent sobs that wracked his whole frame, but most of all he cried for how bad his chest hurt in that moment.

Jack pulled the boy into a gentle hug and smoothed out his wild hair. "I fought hard to put a lot of programs in place to help people like us in Overwatch. You're safe here, Jesse. I promise."

McCree nodded meekly.

"Please, go see Doctor Zeigler first thing in the morning. If you're not already on T, we can get you started, and get you a safe binder to use. But she'll probably want to make sure there's no permanent damage first."

 

Jack released Jesse from the hug and held him out at arm's length— strong hands gripped firmly on slumped shoulders. "I won't tell Gabe, but you'll have to when you're ready, understood?"

McCree nodded again and Jack released him and bent over to hand the boy his hoodie.

"Get to bed, McCree."

McCree took his hoodie and quickly slipped it on, zipping it up. "Yessir."

He slipped by the older man and was almost halfway out the door when curiosity tugged hard on his mind. He turned back and looked to his commander with a quizzical look. "Gabe?"

Jack gave a knowing smirk and pulled his own shirt back on. He underlined _California_ with his thumb and winked.

Realization quickly dawned on McCree and he made a loud wretching noise before bolting out into the hallway.

________

It was midday in Gibraltar. High noon.

Jesse tugged worryingly on his serape, making sure it was draped in such a way that it covered his slightly rounded belly.

The summer heat made the fabric itchy and unbearably hot to wear, and Hanzo had insisted that McCree wasn't showing _that_ much (that it merely looked like he indulged in a large meal), but McCree couldn't help but feel self-conscious of his bump when they walked across the base.

He smoothed the palm of his flesh hand over the curve of it in a way that helped his nerves.

Hanzo was close to his side, a strong hand gentle against the cowboy's back.

Together, they stood outside the doors to Winston's lab. Muffled voices could be heard rising and falling in heated discussion from beyond the metal doors. The most prominent and the harshest being Jack Morrison's.

"Is it too late to change my mind?" Jesse asked jokingly. He tapped a metal finger against his thigh as a means to drive out the rising anxiety.

It didn't work.

"Yes." Hanzo responded curtly. "You said you would tell them, and we will tell them now."

McCree puffed his cheeks into a pout and then deflated them with a half-hearted raspberry. "Fiiiine."

He pressed the call button for Athena, and a light on the keypad flashed blue.

"Agent McCree. Agent Hanzo. How may I help you today?" The A.I. spoke smoothly.

"Would you be a doll and let us in? Gotta speak with Morrison and the others." McCree drawled. He did his best to keep the edge out of his voice. Him and Jack were currently not on the best of terms.

Ever since Jack and Ana had contacted them after a close encounter with Talon, it took months of restraint to keep McCree from swinging at the former Strike Commander.

"Morrison and Amari are currently debriefing Winston," Athena responded. "I am sorry but the meeting is classified. No other personnel are to be let in."

Jesse growled and bit his lip. He could feel his anger flaring. "Classified? Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?? I helped plan that whole goddamn operation!"

"I am sorry agent McCree." Athena chimed.

The archer casted a worried glance towards McCree and rubbed small circles against his cowboy's back.

"Do not work yourself up, Jesse." Hanzo warned quietly. "You are supposed to be taking it easy."

With a restrained sigh, Jesse slumped his shoulders and rolled his head back. "I'm sorry honeybee, you're right."

He then looked pointedly to the keypad, still blinking with Athena's blue LED. "Athena, could you at least notify them? It's...pretty important."

"Of course. One moment."

The blue light flashed off and McCree exhaled slowly.

"It will be alright." Hanzo reassured.

"God I hope so," Jesse muttered. He fussed again with the serape. "Jack and I....when I left Overwatch...we didn't quite see eye to eye. And when I heard what happened to the base...what happened to Reyes. Hell...I spent a long time blaming Jack."

Hanzo stilled Jesse's hand and took it in his own. Jesse knew the archer didn't have much to say on the topic of broken bonds. Hanzo had plenty of experience in that department, which is why he remained silent, yet supportive.

Before they knew it, the LED blinked on again and Athena purred through the speaker. "You've both been permitted clearance."

McCree rolled his eyes at the military jargon. Jack's own words no doubt, but what business did that man have barking around orders again?

The doors to the lab hissed open, and Hanzo released McCree's hand to step inside.

McCree could hear his own heart pounding loud in his ears. His feet were heavy, as if someone filled his boots with sand and he couldn't move his feet no matter how hard he willed it.

Hanzo lingered in the metal doorway. Worried brown eyes watching McCree— eyes that his children just might have.

And he sure as shit wasn't about to let his children inherit his cowardice in this moment.

McCree sucked in a breath and puffed his chest out, feigning confidence (although it made his belly stick out more too, but he elected to ignore it), and he stepped into the laboratory.

Inside, Winston, Jack, and Ana were standing around the holo-table. The usual image of Overwatch's satellite trajectory was replaced with data and surveillance videos of the recent mission to Cairo.

Jack's visor was off and resting on the table in front of him as he gazed sternly through the orange pixels to McCree and Hanzo.

The ghostly image of Reaper could be seen from the grainy footage looping silently in one of the floating video boxes. He maneuvered in and out of dark alleyways— a deadly wraith leaving nothing but dead enemies in his wake.

Jesse swallowed hard. It felt like ice was crawling through the pit of his stomach.

"What is it." Jack demanded gruffly.

Ana and Winston exchanged worried glances.

Hanzo must have seen McCree bristle in anger because before Jesse could snap back, the archer had a steady hand on his arm.

Winston quickly cleared his throat to diffuse the tension. "What seems to be the trouble McCree?"

There were too many eyes on Jesse, and the cowboy didn't like it one bit.

He felt too exposed.

"It's about my position here in Overwatch," McCree started slowly. He did everything he could to avoid eye contact with Jack.

The old soldier knit his brows in confusion.

Ana's expression was more passive, but he could see that knowing gleam in her eye. She was connecting the dots quicker than all of them.

Because of course she would.

Winston leaned forward and adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose. "What did Angela have to say? Is everything alright?"

The scientist was nervous, rightfully so. McCree was one of Overwatch's top agents, so it was natural for Winston to fear losing the gunslinger's skill to an unspoken "illness".

Jesse's mouth felt dry. What he wouldn't give for a quick taste of bourbon to bolster his courage.

"Everything is fine actually. More than fine...in fact there is no illness."

Ana arched a slender brow and hid her mouth behind quietly folded hands.

Jack was not so quiet.

"What the hell do you mean there is no illness? Are you telling me you faked it? We could have used you on that mission!"

McCree gripped the hem of his serape tight— knuckles turning white. He felt bigger than he really was. That the evidence was so obviously in front of them and they were all too damn blind to see it.

_You can trust them_ , he told himself, _just about everyone in this room is a friend._

He eyed Jack warily.

_Just about everyone..._

It was now or never.

"Yes I faked it," McCree confessed through grit teeth. "But I faked it for good reason."

He swept his serape aside to expose his slightly pregnant middle.

"I'm pregnant. Been pregnant for a bit now. Just enough to know I've got two little ones on the way."

God, he hated how his voice wavered with emotion. How he felt so vulnerable to them all in this moment— their eyes trained warily on his belly. And he still hated that goddamn word.

Pregnant.

Silence filled Winston's laboratory. It was a pause that was almost as pregnant as McCree; overwhelming and suffocating, and it made Jesse feel as if he was going to drown.

Hanzo, thank god, was by the cowboy's side with a strong arm across McCree's back to keep him afloat.

He didn't even see Ana cross the room to embrace him in a tight hug.

"Congratulations,  Jesse," She murmured soothingly. When she pulled away there was a sharp playful smile on her lips. "Be thankful those babies of yours kept you from joining us. Jack was insufferable the whole trip."

From the corner of his eye, Jesse saw Jack wince slightly.

Winston was still gaping, but quickly recovered when Ana shot him a look. He loped over to them and offered a hand.

"Y-Yes, congratulations McCree! This is incredible news!" Winston stammered.

McCree took the scientist's hand hesitantly and accepted the firm congratulatory shake.

"Thank you kindly," he murmured.

Jack remained quietly by the table— watching.

Ana folded her arms and turned a critical eye to Hanzo— sizing the archer up. "It is my understanding that you are to blame for Jesse's condition?"

Hanzo's cheeks flushed a darker shade and he straightened. "Yes ma'am."

"Ana!" McCree whined. "Don't hound the poor fella!"

The old sniper waved a dismissive hand. "Oh hush. I'm allowed to!"

She then playfully pinched at the shell of his ear and twisted. "And I expect you to indulge me in all the dirty details."

"Ana!" McCree could feel his own cheeks flush with heat.

"Let's not get too sidetracked now!" Winston quickly intervened. Thank god for Winston, as awkward as the scientist could be he was a lifesaver in that moment. He gave an earnest nod in McCree's direction. "We can discuss your uh...current status with Angela later, if you would like."

Jesse tipped his hat in return, relieved to be given an out. "I'll let y'all get back to it then. Got a few more people I gotta spill the beans to."

"Lena will lose it when she finds out you told me before her," Winston said with an exasperated smile.

Jesse laughed and turned on his heel, hooking his flesh arm with Hanzo's. "I'm saving her for last."

Together, Hanzo and McCree left the lab, and once they crossed the metal threshold into the outside world, McCree's energy deflated and he sagged heavily into Hanzo.

Hanzo bumped their shoulders together and leaned in to press an affectionate kiss against the cowboy's scruffy cheek. "I'm proud of you."

McCree practically melted. "Thank you, sugar. Couldn't have done it without ya."

Hanzo chuffed out a breath of air. "I was just as anxious as you were."

McCree gasped obnoxiously and placed a hand over his heart. "Whaaaat? THE Hanzo Shimada? Admitting he was afraid?!"

A withering stare was shot in McCree's direction as Hanzo unhooked their arms and walked ahead. "Then you may tell the rest of the team yourself."

In return, McCree pounced quickly pounced forward and locked his arms around his lover. He cooed in that sickeningly sweet voice that Hanzo absolutely hated to hear. "Noooo Hanny-bear! Don't ya dare leave me! Think of the children!"

"The children are fine!" Hanzo snapped back, but there was no heat behind his words. In fact, Jesse could hear him struggling to keep the laughter from his voice.

He had the archer on the ropes now!

With a devilish grin, he buried his beard into the nape of Hanzo's neck and rubbed furiously.

It rewarded him with an undignified yelp from the archer, followed by a giddy fit of laughter.

McCree's heart swelled as he felt the love of his life tremble under him, giggling like an elated child. (It was a known fact that every time Hanzo laughed, an angel got its wings.)

But the moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat, followed by a gruff voice.

"McCree?"

Jesse felt his lungs constrict slightly and a low fire simmered deep in his belly. Reluctantly, he released Hanzo from his grip with a sigh and turned to face Jack, who stood a few feet away from them.

"I need to talk to you," The older man said roughly.

Now it was McCree's turn to hold Hanzo back.

The elder Shimada straightened himself to his full height, lifting his chin as well, and planted himself firmly in front of Jesse.

He could have just let Hanzo take care of it, to chase Jack away and they could go on peacefully to tell their friends about the babies....

No.

No this had to be nipped in the bud now.

McCree and Jack had been at each other's throats for months. It was time for everything to settle down. Besides, McCree couldn't handle the amount of heartburn it gave him to argue with the super soldier.

Jesse placed a gentle hand on Hanzo's shoulder to hold him back and shot the smaller man a disarming smile. "You go on ahead, Han. Me and the buns will be alright."

Hanzo narrowed his eyes at McCree. "Jesse—

"I promise you I'll take it easy."

The archer shot Jack an icy look, a look that promised death, but when he looked back to McCree that expression melted into worry.

"Come find me when you are done," Hanzo whispered softly and departed briskly— metal feet tapping lightly against the pavement.

McCree turned back to Jack, his outward demeanor relaxed and carefree, but inside he could feel another wave of heartburn bubbling up.

"Shall we?"

________

They settled on the communications tower being private enough for the two men to speak undisturbed.

Jesse sat on the catwalk, his back to the wall of the tower as he allowed one leg to dangle off freely into the air. It was most certainly a sight that would have made Angela and Hanzo fall into a fit of conniptions.

He chuckled at the thought.

Jack was definitely nervous, seeing McCree poised on the edge so casually, and McCree took pride in getting the old soldier a little shaken up.

It was annoying how people like Angela, Hanzo, and hell sometimes even Genji, had started to treat him like he was fragile goods. Sure he was carrying some extra cargo, but the cowboy was still confident in his own physical prowess.

The catwalk was also McCree's favorite perch to smoke from (when he was able to smoke). Dwelling on it made his teeth ache for that need to bite down on a nice thick cigar. He bit the inside of his cheek instead to quell the unwanted craving.

Jack himself was unnervingly quiet. He leaned in the open doorway next to McCree, his posture stiff yet the man looked exhausted beyond his years. His broad shoulders sagged heavily as if there was an unseen weight bearing down on them.

McCree figured that weight must have looked a lot like the skull-faced specter they were chasing. He then wondered when was the last time Jack had slept.

With a heavy sigh, Jesse figured he had to be the one to shatter the silence between them. "What's on your mind, Commander?"

Jack stiffened at the old title. "I'm not—

He stopped himself and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting to find the right words.

"I'm sorry," Jack finally said. "I feel like an ass for how I've acted."

Jesse shrugged lazily. "You were always kind of an ass."

Jack narrowed his eyes, causing the crows feet around his eyes to crease deeper and show the soldier's age.

"Reyes would've agreed with me."

Jack's scowl faltered for a fraction of a second, and a wry smile twitched across his lips followed by a small chuckle. "Of course he would."

The words were forlorn on the old soldier's tongue and McCree's own heart twisted painfully for the man. He allowed himself to settle more comfortably against the wall and clasped his hands to rest across his middle.

McCree was really starting to wish he had a smoke.

He bit the inside of his cheek again.

"How was Cairo?" he watched Jack's face sour out of the corner of his eye. "Were the leads any good?"

Jack pushed himself out of the doorway and paced along the catwalk, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

McCree raised a brow. "Nothing?"

Jack shook his head. "No, the leads were good."

"So you found him then."

Silence filled the space between them once again.

A flock of seagulls lazily sailed over the base, squawking noisily while distant waves crashed against the base's rocky face.

At this rate, getting any info out of Jack about the state of Gabriel Reyes was going to be like pulling teeth, and Jesse McCree already had done so much of that it would have made the tooth fairy blush.

And the heat of the afternoon sun was drying up Jesse's patience mighty quick.

"Don't make me ask Ana," he warned.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to McCree on the catwalk and shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket until he procured a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He was halfway pulling a single stick out when he blinked with realization and sheepishly glanced at McCree before tapping it back into the box.

"Sorry..."

Jesse waved him off. "Don't you worry 'bout it."

Jack nodded and slipped the cigarettes back into his pocket, pulling out his phone instead and flipping it open.

Only Jack Morrison would be the one person in the year 2076 that owned a flip phone...

But then again, McCree didn't own a phone, period.

He squinted at the grainy image on Jack's cracked screen. It was a dark three-story compound, locked in by heavy industrial fences.

"They targeted Helix just like Fareeha said they would," Jack said in a clipped tone.

McCree eyed the image again, from what he could tell the security at Helix was practically seamless, he didn't expect anything less from Ana Amari's own daughter.

Fareeha Amari had been the one who contacted them about the job initially. She had explained that Helix had caught a few blips of someone trying to access their servers from outside the base. She knew after a few failed attempts, that it would be only a matter of time before their next attempt was from the inside. And her gut instinct had told her that Talon was definitely behind the hacks.

The official paperwork that Fareeha had turned in to her superiors said that Helix would hire a third-party security team to investigate the hackings in case there was a chance of an internal leak. But for the most part it was a lot of string pulling and fabrications between her and Jesse to put the plan into action.

She sure as hell didn't want to talk to Ana or Jack, and Jesse didn't blame her.

He felt bad for having to sit out on the mission they had worked for months and months to put together. Jesse would have loved to see Fareeha again and shoot shit with her over good cigars and liquor—like old times.

He made a mental note to get in contact with her to apologize and give her the good news about the babies. Hell...maybe even make her the godmother if she was up for it.

But that would be for later.

Jack clicked a button on the dial pad and the image switched to a quick five second video of the same building.

Jesse could see the guards marching by like little pixel ants on the ground, and a convoy rolled through the security checkpoint at the front gate. Then, on the farthest side of the building, just almost out of the camera's view, Jesse saw it.

A black smudge slithered up to the roof top and out of sight.

It felt as if someone had slipped a cold knife in between Jesse's ribs. He grimaced at the screen and then looked up at Jack. "What happened?"

Jack flipped his phone shut with a hard click and worried at it with his fingers.

"Jack."

"I saw him."

McCree watched the old soldier stare out at the horizon. He look beyond exhausted, as if talking about the ghost that was Gabriel Reyes took years off his life.

"Guess he wasn't real chatty, huh?"

"Wouldn't be the first time he's shot at me," Jack replied dryly.

McCree did his best to swallow a lump in his throat.

A lot of unspoken words hung in the air between them, drifting like the gulls on the ocean breeze.

_Why join Talon? Was he brainwashed? Did he go willingly?_

_Was there ever a Gabriel Reyes to begin with? Had it all been a lie?_

These were questions that made Jesse's chest broil with heartburn and he grunted in discomfort. He noticed blue eyes watching him carefully as he shifted to sit more comfortably against the wall.

Jesse sucked in a breath and held it, pretending like he was holding in a particularly sweet plume of smoke before releasing it in a slow exhale. The action seemed to help a bit.

"Wish I coulda been there," Jesse sighed. "Probably would've made a difference."

Jack shook his head. "I doubt it. He's angry Jesse. Angry at me—at Overwatch. He blames us for what he is."

Jesse's heartburn was now in full swing. He could feel tears threatening to sting at the corner of his eyes. "But if I wasn't—

"Jesse."

Jack's voice was firm, but surprisingly soft. He clapped a firm hand to Jesse's shoulder, but his expression remained rather pained.

"Don't talk like you regret this...please. What happened with Gabe—Reaper...I don't think anyone could get through to him. He always was too damn stubborn."

McCree exhaled a weak laugh through his nostrils and dipped his chin. He found himself rubbing small circles across the swell of his belly.

Jack watched his actions with a forlorn expression.

And Jesse was not blind to it.

"Did you and Reyes....did y'all ever plan to...?"

Jack's hand slipped from Jesse's shoulder and he used it to run a hand through his fluffy white hair.

"Once upon a time," the soldier said quietly. "After the crisis, I wanted to retire while Gabe picked up with Overwatch as its Strike-Commander. But...that door closed real fast."

They sat in a heavy silence together, watching the gulls circle and dive.

Jack finally sighed. "This was a really fucked up way for me to tell you congratulations."

Jesse snorted. "And you used to be a real people person too."

The old soldier shrugged and gave a weak chuckle. "Ana says I'm too damn young to be acting so senile."

"Ana is right."

Jack shook his head and stood, and offered a hand to McCree, but the cowboy batted his hand away and managed to stand on his own.

Jesse hooked his thumbs into his belt and gave Jack a nod. "Well, thanks for the talk anyway, Morrison. You really know how to brighten my day."

He didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, but Jack didn't seem bothered by it.

"Congratulations, Jesse. I'm sorry for how I've been..."

Jesse tipped his hat at the man. "Apology accepted. Does this mean I can call you grandpa now?"

Jack shot him a hard glare in return. "Please don't."

"Roger that, grandpa," Jesse said with a wolfish grin and turned on his heel to take the stairs down.

Behind him he heard the click of a lighter and a long tired exhale carried off by the crying seagulls.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I'll definitely try to get the next chapter out sooner. We have many more members to tell!   
> If you'd like, offer me a few to include in the comments and I'll see what I can work in :3c


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